My Journal
by The Box Lord
Summary: It was his fault for leaving it out where anybody could read it... AWL fic


"Is that my journal?"

Oh. Crap. You'd been caught.

"…and if it is?" you challenged, carefully masking your panic with boredom.

He was blushing slightly, you noticed, as he responded, "What are you doing with it?" Ignoring your challenge, he took a step forward, and you reflexively took one step back. Looking into your eyes, he realized your emotions and refrained from continuing towards you (and his journal) with a heavy sigh. He'd always been able to read you like a book. "Please, put it down."

Startled, you realized that you had been clutching it to you chest. Hurriedly, you jammed the small book back on the shelf where you had found it. "S-sorry," you stammered, and then fled the house, face hot.

He reached out at the last second, to grab your arm, as you ran by, but missed, and yet again sighed heavily. _How much had she read?_ he wondered, face redder still. Picking up his journal, he looked through it quickly, checking for inconsistencies in the pages and saw nothing to tell him how far you had gotten. Placing it back on the shelf, he left his home.

Leaning against a tree beside what the locals called "Turtle Pond," you buried your red face in your knees. Why had you done that? Why did he have to have come in at that point in time? …why had you run? That would have been the perfect time to admit your feelings.

"So, did you find what you were looking for?"

You jumped, not expecting to have any sort of company that late at night. You looked up, cautiously, and then sighed in relief. It wasn't Him.

"What are you talking about, Celia?"

The girl smiled sheepishly. "I was watching. You read his journal, didn't you?" Wringing her hands together, nervously, the brunette suddenly found the ground more interesting than her friend's face.

You were at a loss for words. Celia had been in the house? But you had just seen her outside before you had gone in yourself! …it seemed as if today wasn't going very well for you.

"He likes you, you know," Celia said, taking your silence as a no. "He's never really talked much, but when he does, it's about you a lot of the time these days. 'Course he doesn't say anything around Vesta; afraid she might try to set the two of you up, I bet."

Blushing heavily, you buried your face, yet again, in your knees, muttering something along the lines of, "shut up."

Your friend laughed. Looking up, she seemed to notice someone heading in their direction, and, smile widening, she waved the figure over. "I should probably get back," Celia said, quickly.

Suspicious of how she was acting, you looked up and saw Celia running in the direction of the bridge. However, on her way, she stopped by someone—Him—and point in your direction. "Empty night," you cursed, standing up and getting ready to run again. But it was too late, he had seen you, and was coming towards you in a subdued walk.

Silently plotting out ways to exact revenge on Celia, you placed a tree between Him and yourself, with your back against it, as he approached.

"Beautiful night," he commented when he reached you. Pretending not to notice you hiding from him, he went over to the edge of the pond and sat down. When you didn't respond, he asked, "How much did you read?"

"Enough," you flushed.

He nodded. "And?"

Echoing him, you chanced a glace behind the tree and your eyes met his without meaning to. He was staring at you intensely, and if it hadn't been so dark, you would've sworn he was blushing. It was then that things seemed to click into place. "Oh? Oh! I-I—uh—um…" You floundered for words, beet red, and he smiled slightly, which made you blush even harder.

He could tell you were embarrassed (it would be extremely sad if he couldn't, with all your blushing and stammering), and he was enjoying it, because it was extremely rare for you to be short of words. But…behind his smile, he was worried. You had read his journal, his _feelings_, and he was sure that Celia had informed you of them herself more than once, and yet you hadn't responded yet.

You took a nervous step towards the boy—the man—eyes still locked with his, your mouth still spouting nonsensical words. "I-I do—I mean—really—"

As soon as you were within his reach, he grasped your hand and pulled him down beside him and clamped a hand over her mouth. Had you been able to get any _more_ red, he was sure you would. "Shush," he told you, as gently as he could.

Under his hand, you nodded, eyes wide and locked with his. When, after you did so, he didn't remove your hand (as if he didn't _trust_ you to stay quiet), you proceeded to lick his hand.

Removing his hand from your person with a startled sound, he glared at you. "What the hell was that for?" In response you shrugged and pantomimed zipping your lips and throwing away the key. "Seriously, grow up," he groaned, rolling his eyes.

You smiled, pleased with his reaction. Happy that he had grown more used to you, comfortable enough to act this way with you. But, really, you hadn't given him much choice; showing up at Vesta's right after she opened, each morning; following him around until you were told to leave not by him (because he told you to leave twice every other breath), but by Vesta.

He reacted like he always did to your smile; turning away, probably in embarrassment. After a moment spent getting his emotions under control, he turned back towards you and locked eyes with you again. "Would you…tell me?" he asked.

"My three sizes? Marlin, you pig!" you snickered when he clenched his jaw, now obviously red in the dim starlight. When his jaw clenched, his hands did too, and with a start you realized he had never let go of the arm that he had used to pull you down to his level.

"No," he forced out, trying to keep his temper under rein. It wouldn't do to snap at you…especially considering it was _him_ that wanted an answer. Considering the way the conversation wasn't going, he started to get up, ready to just head home. He would try this another day…

"Where do you think _you're_ going?" you snapped, pulling down hard on the arm that he hadn't released yet. Then, while he was still dazed, you grabbed the front of his white shirt and pressed your lips to his, in a kiss. Before he could respond in like, you pulled back and angled him with a playful gaze. "Had you asked nicely, I might've given them to you."

* * *

_A_uther's _N_otes:

This was written for Harvest Moon: Another Wonderful Life, in case you couldn't tell. I wonder if you can tell who _I_ chose to marry? 8D


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